


indulge me your savage princess fantasy (please don't make me say please)

by clytemnestras



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Bloodplay, F/M, Messy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sex In Forests, sloppy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 05:48:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1887240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clytemnestras/pseuds/clytemnestras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaus, Caroline, the inevitable, and the leaves in their hair from the fallout. </p><p>(let's say sex can be a little rough and dream-like all at once and call this it)</p>
            </blockquote>





	indulge me your savage princess fantasy (please don't make me say please)

Call her Red Riding Hood or whatever - but she was never afraid of running through the trees, not afraid of the big bad wolves that stalk them.

  
(though maybe she should have been)

  
The creeping shadows cover her like blankets, keeping it illicit if they can't keep her warm.

  
(and if golden eyes are watching, so be it)

  
And she'll pull off her jacket if the need takes her, wanting to feel brisk air along her skin. Moonlight's her domain now, right? Might as well embrace the dark. Closing eyes, she'll let the fingers lace through her hair and tug and tangle and tame. She'll let the solid body push her back against a tree, but she'll be the one to take his lips and take them for herself. She'll pull off his shirt and scratch her needs into his skin. Pull at his curls, hold him closer than she should let any beast get.

  
(but she's not exactly the beauty any more)

  
She'll devour his lips, she'll swallow him whole.

  
She'll rip the dress off of herself, like ripping flesh from bone. And if she's not wearing clothes then he can't either. They're both monster's here, no human pleasantries allowed.

(if she's vulnerable he has to be, too. flesh is open ground, they've both got the chance to paint temporary scars)

Her bra is gone, like the voice in her throat. She can growl, though. So she does. She growls as he dances his teeth along her chest, her breasts. Her nails curl along his scalp, down his cheekbones, across his lips. She spreads her legs and grips his hips. He bites down, sucks tightly, then leaves the blood to dribble down. Her snowflake chest is painted.

(she likes the thought that it's gonna get messy - like her hands were always cleaning, craving mess)

And if she could find a voice it's fair to say that she'd tell him it's okay to hurt. But she can't, and he bends and indulges in her slowly, licking and sucking where she wants to be fucked. He eats her. He sucks and swallows and _devours_ her inside, drinks her all the way down. She whimpers like a hurt thing, wanting both more and less and she couldn't hate him more when he looks up at her and smiles.

_"If you didn't want a bastard, you shouldn't have asked for me, love."_

The hand that pulls him up by hair says soundlessly _"I won't make that mistake next time",_ but he's not wrong. The asshole. If she wanted a prince she would get one, to carry the princess off to safety. But she doesn't. She wants the rogue, the wolf that can match her blow for blow.

She tastes herself on his lips.

She makes him still his hips until he's buried deep inside, then the forest quakes for them.

They tumble back into leaves, onto grass. If the forest is a meadow then this could be _Twilight_ , but with more sex and less sparkles.

(she doesn't want sparkles anyway)

There is nothing domestic, just panting and growling and the whispers of names on lips across skin. She paints him with her fingers, along taut muscles, aching now. He'll lay chaste kisses on her forehead, if it's what she really wants.

(it's not)

If this is gonna leave bruises, she'd like to make them last. And she's so full of him, of the flex of both their hips and the taste of his lips and god this is it. Her head lolls back and his lips find her neck and it's not like there's a real pulse there but she feels that thrum anyway - if he marks her on the inside, she'll let him mark her outside too.

(provided she gets a bite and a quick swallow or two)

(i can take you on, let me take you away)

They _fuck._ She's a mess and there's sweat and there are leaves in her hair and if she ever had a crown then it's buried in the dirt right now. And he's a chivalrous beast, if ever there was one, knowing how to give whilst taking everything. And maybe they roll along the floor when the laughter overtakes them, and maybe he slips out once or twice and maybe when she pulls him back she can't remember how it feels when he's not inside, pounding everything she has until all she sees is sky.

And maybe she hisses, maybe he howls and maybe they don't know how to scream any more when they're licking excess blood off of flawless skin.

(but maybe not)

And if she needs clothes for the long walk home, at least she knows he likes to cover her.

(you can't call her Little Red if she tore apart her cape)

**Author's Note:**

> give me reasons to write you porn
> 
> (give me prompts)


End file.
